Team mates: Louis Proust (LSE), Stuart Birnie (Willesden)Bike: Trek (Louis was on his Bianchi, Stuart on his S-works)Distance: 50 kilometres (31.07 miles)Time: 1 hour 20 minutes 07 secondsAverage speed: 23.267 mph
The team time trial: possibly the most effective way to destroy friendship through a combination of alliterated words.
However, in my skewed worldview the TTT is also a chance for a bit of fun, combined with pro-style tactics, and a break from the monotony of solo races. After some careful scrutiny of form and gullibility, my team-mates shaped up as followed:
Louis from the LSE: Louis and I rode as a 2up last year and did pretty well. He has youth and power in spades, and for this year's event he even had the red hat which had served me so well last year, both as an an aerodynamic fairing and as a fancy dress costume. We'd attempted to get three LSE riders together, so we could compete for the university prize - but failed.
Stuart aka hippy of the Willesden: stepping into the breach in his new skinsuit (steady on, ladies). Stuart has a pedigree in crit racing, but had ridden a couple of 10 mile club TTs last year. Most importantly, he has a flash bike and was available for this event, spurning his fixed gear friends and the lure of Saaarfend to thrash himself senseless round some quietish country lanes.
I had a few niggling worries about our physiological differences. Stuart and Louis are both built like oxen and have legs like traction engines. I, however, am built like a stork and am more of a Fisher Price 'My first choo-choo' kind of rider.
Speaking of trains, I spent many hours on the railways today. Strangely, there is no direct line from Ipswich to Princes Risborough, so I had to go via London. I noticed once more that living in the countryside has caused me to lose the ability to cycle safely in city traffic, this caused some interesting moments, even on the relatively quiet weekend roads.
Made it to Marylebone well ahead of schedule, so took advantage of the shops to purchase essentials: lucozade, milk, pasta, coffee... meanwhile, Louis and Stuart arrived, followed by Jayne and
Wicksy. These two had lost a team member to food poisoning, but bravely soldiered on.
We loaded our five bikes into the disabled bays on the train, having failed to locate a cycle compartment, and sat down to begin a series of bizarre conversations, vaguely related to cycling but more centred on alcohol consumption and the 1980s ... we only briefly discussed team tactics because - hah! - perish the thought we were taking this seriously.
At High Wycombe we got into trouble with the train driver, because a departing Wycombite had pushed one of our bikes onto the emergency stop button. Hilariously, the driver stomped past the five people in lycra and started yelling at some boys sitting near our bikes. 'Could he have been any more rude?' was the general consensus once he had stomped off again.
Though there were some showers afoot, the sun was beating down over Princes Risborough when we pulled into the station. We pedalled off to the HQ at Longwick, and noticed an alarming change in Wicksy's usual calm demeanour: once the man starts riding a bike, he becomes a raging ball of aggression, though the Buckinghamshire 4x4 crowd probably deserve it.
A pleasant surprise awaited us at the HQ: the Purdys had turned up, ready to cheer us on and take pictures. More banter, a few of Jayne's infamous rotten bananas, another cup of coffee and the team headed out for our warm up, where we pedalled up and down a short section of road, doing changeovers. Exciting stuff.
We lined up at the start, watching the finely-attired riders of Durham and Swansea race off into the distance. Once we'd started, I threw the plan - that I'd do a lengthy initial stint at the front - out of the window, and peeled off after about 500 metres. This was to let the other two get some speed up in their legs and, given they'd had a fraction of the coffee I'd had, I trusted them not to go crazy. They didn't, and we made good progress with the wind at our back.
We did really well keeping together and changed over neatly, Stuart and Louis were riding very quickly ... then we turned into the wind. I felt bloody awful at this point, and was terrified at the speed the other two were able to sustain. My turns at the front became short, and my breathing became ragged. I feared I was going to be blown off the road by these two, and I'd nearly finished my bottle. Things seemed to slow down dramatically, until we turned out of the wind and flew along to start our second lap.
A decent stint at the front, turning my top gear and cranking up the pace seemed to sort my rhythm out, and I felt much much better on the second lap. However, we faced a few bits of adversity. A ridiculous flatbed truck got in our way, causing us to halt ... grrr! Then we had to regroup ... grrr! Then one of the Oxford teams overtook us on their first lap... grrr! Then a bit of traffic at a T-junction...GRRRRRR. Though I advised Louis to hold back, because you're not allowed to draft other teams, the Oxford team didn't appear to have an enormous speed advantage over us, and I figured they'd only overtaken us because of the truck incident and because they had fresher legs. So, in no uncertain terms I informed the team that we were going to re-take them and then launched into a furious attack, all thought of pacing the bloody race fell by the wayside. We did re-take them because they seemed unable to descend, despite their vast amount of aero kit (disc wheels! proper time trial bikes!), but they climbed a lot better than we did and soon took us again. My attention then shifted to a team of red riders in the distance, who we were making ground on.
The headwind once again got in the way, but I felt better going into it. However, my team now looked a bit mutinous, and were grumbling things I couldn't hear because of my helmet's ear flaps. I now did a lot more work at the front, but the team was spent. The last few miles we should've flown, but we'd overcooked it and lost a lot of time. I was also miscalculating the distance to go, and the finish kind of crept up on us - Stuart spied it and sprinted ahead, as we'd apparently planned earlier... yes, yes, he 'won', so he can add that to his 'victory' in the Willesden Reliability Ride.
STILL. We'd done a 1:20:07, and I reckon had we gauged our first lap pace (particularly in the first section into the headwind) better, we could've gone 3 to 4 minutes quicker at least. Stuart impressed me with his power, and Louis has terrifying pace. We could've also gone under 1:20 had it not been for the truck incident, but whatever. I think we did OK given the conditions, and given that my teammates don't ride many time trials.
I hot-footed it back to the HQ to get my hands on some of the 200+ slices of cake, and get some more coffee into my system, as well as squash (the ride was warm). Jayne and Wicksy were already back, they'd bailed after a single lap owing to cramp, possibly caused by over-zealous rotten banana consumption. I debriefed with the Purdys, Ron informing me that I had to make more of an effort to sprint for the line in TTs. After a few minutes of this, we began to worry where the rest of my team had got to... rumours circulated that they'd set off for another lap. Then, lumbering like some kind of mythical sea creature, Stuart appeared at the door and limped over. This reminded me of how I'd felt after the
2007 Ely Hardriders and I realised he hadn't done anything at this level of intensity for quite some time. So that made his achievement all the more impressive. Louis followed, and we ate more cake and other sugary things which Stuart mysteriously produced. These included some kind of compressed fruit bars, which I found compellingly awful. Ron bemoaned the number of other riders in green kit, Stuart began to look forward to some kind of buttock massage from his girlfriend, the rest of us wished we hadn't heard that... (and given the power of google, I'm beginning to wish I hadn't typed it).
The train ride back to London was taken up by a dissection of our performance, along with anecdotes and future goals. I hope I've convinced them both to enter some quick open time trials. We said farewell at Marylebone, and I pedalled through the pleasant drizzle to Liverpool Street. Here I purchased a giant fizzy drink and a burger, and subsequently suffered with indigestion all the way back to Suffolk, though the alternative was passing out... instead I was able to contemplate my 12 hour round trip to ride 80 minutes at pace. Well, it's a hobby...
